Wet Pants

My mother came to the house and took my children to their home today to make sausage balls and to keep them away from the house so we could set up the trampoline we're getting them for Christmas.   Not Santa, there are too many people (children) who could see it happening.

Uncle Bob, Uncle Brian, my husband and I worked for several hours and figured out how to get the springless trampoline into springing mode.  We finished as it got dark.   My husband had stepped inside to make dinner before my in-laws and parents arrived while Uncle Brian and I finished putting the basketball net up.

The longest portion of the setup involved me, sitting underneath the mat, helping guide the springs into the locking joints.   This wasn't simple and required strength, coordination, and fitness.  My job was to sit underneath the mat, press my heat up and into the mat as hard as I could while helping guide the bar the guys were pushing down with great strength.   We all had our jobs, mine involved sitting in wet, soggy grass for two hours.   My pants were cold and wet and I was glad to be done so I could get dry clothes on.

My children arrived home and we had a lovely dinner of roast (not roast beast, just roast) and as we ate it grew hot in the dining room.  Uncle Bob mentioned menopause and I laughed and agreed, I might be suffering from hot flashes.

It was shortly after that that my son decided to step out onto the deck—because the door was cracked open—and saw the trampoline.   If you're counting, that's minus twelve points for mom.   My husband and I talked to my son and he agreed not to tell until the morning.   Then, he told us, he would tell his sister he knew tonight.   I asked him how that would make his sister feel and he said, "upset".   After thinking about it I think he has agreed not to tell her he found out early.

Tomorrow will be fun in a lot of ways.  Christmas morning is always a fun time, even if my son fount out about the largest present (dimensionally).   There are other fun presents for them from family and friends.

The Santa Conspiracy My Son Believes In:  My son explained at the dinner table (after his sister left) that he knew there was no Santa.   He was vocal and firm about it.  No one confirmed his belief and he didn't ask for confirmation, perhaps because he wasn't that sure.   I told him it was okay, he didn't have to believe if he didn't want to.  And I left it at that and moved on to talk to one of the adults.

The Tiny Girl Asleep Chronicles:  My daughter fell asleep at my parent's house today.   She came home and almost fell asleep again here until we roused her for dinner.   She will fall asleep soon, only to be awake early for Christmas morning.   She and her brother know they can go through their stockings before we wake up, but can't go downstairs.